


Damnatio Memoriae

by ichthyes



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Egypt, M/M, Puzzleshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichthyes/pseuds/ichthyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Excerpts from an AU I started and never finished writing a few years ago. Potential to be continued.<br/>One of those Pharaoh/ Yuugi AUs; in this one Yuugi's name is Senet.<br/>At least, that's how it starts.<br/>Also a grand re-imagining of the Yu-Gi-Oh! story concept, minus duel monsters and a lot of characters, but complete with multiple timelines, reincarnation, magic, romance, deceit, betrayal, murder, mystery, ghosts and... scuba diving? Yeah. Scuba diving. <br/>Yuugi as an archaeologist; 'Yamin' as an orphaned son of an Egyptian wreck diver. <br/>Sugoroku has deciphered the location of the missing piece of the Millennium Puzzle, but when he goes missing, will his grandson be able to follow in his footsteps?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soaked in Robes of Moonlight

**Egypt, In the Time of Pharaohs**

* * *

Pharaoh looked down at his friend, who bowed on the stone before him. He showed the proper respect for a king of Egypt.

It did not please Atem.

“Senet, I wish you to view me as an equal.” Pharaoh tentatively reached beneath Senet's chin. Only the tiniest amount of effort pulled his friend's chin up so that they could look face to face.

Senet's eyes grew, but he did not look away. “But you are Pharaoh-”

“Senet, I am no different than the boy you grew up with. The only difference is the weight of my crown.”

This statement seemed too much to the other boy. He shook his head, and this time he did look away. “You dishonor yourself. You are our God-king.”

Atem sighed in disappointment. Senet was such a stubborn fellow. Did he not see things as Atem saw? That they were truly no different than one another, beside the titles that had been given them?

“Yes, that is what they say.” Atem smiled humorlessly. Silence settled between the two boys. After quite a few moments had passed, Atem turned to look at his counterpart and smile mysteriously.

“Senet, please excuse yourself to a bath.”

The boy nodded and left without a backward glance.  


* * *

  
After all of his servants had tended to him and the rest of his palace had gone to sleep, Atem quietly left his bed and wandered down the many corridors that led to the chambers of the court officials. He knew the path well, though he could only find his way to the chambers of one particular individual without aid. He stopped at Senet's room, but was surprised to see his bed empty.

Pharaoh chose to pad to the courtyard, too restless to return to his own chambers and hoping he still may find Senet while night was with him. The stubborn boy was less proper with him in the shade, when curious eyes were asleep and formalities need not be exchanged.

The night delivered. Sitting by the pool was Senet, soaked in the robes of moonlight that suited him so well. Atem did not believe he could imagine a fonder sight than the image of his friend, thoughtful and at peace with the lilies they were both so enamored with.

“I had hoped I would find you here.”

Senet did not start, and so Atem took it that his friend was not altogether surprised by his appearance. Nor did his friend bow, as he always did when he met Pharaoh in the light of Re.

Atem quietly found his place beside Senet, and the boys stayed together in peace for a while before either spoke. Once again it was Atem who broke the silence.

“You do not believe the superstitions of this palace any more than I, so why do you hold steadfast to their traditions? Why do you not accept me as I am?”

Senet slowly uncurled his fingers from where they had been tangled in his lap and reached for a lily. The white flower nearly glowed in the light of the moon. “Do you see this lily Atem?”

“I do.”

“I come sit with these lilies every evening, because I do not want to forget to appreciate their beauty. Would it not be easier to appreciate their beauty if I brought a lily to my quarters?”

“I suppose it would be easier, yes.”

“But the lily would eventually die. By taking the lily for myself, I would destroy the very thing I find so beautiful. Sometimes... it is best not to take what we want. Sometimes it is better to appreciate the way that things are.”

Atem stared at Senet's hands as he returned the lily to the water. “I am afraid I do not understand your explanation.”

His friend smiled, as if he had known his words would be lost to his king. He finally graced Atem with his sight, and spoke plainly.

“I do not believe you to be a God any more than you believe, Atem... but you are Pharaoh. If I were to stop regarding you as my king, my loyalty to you and your kingdom may be questioned. Your court may ask you to remove me for blasphemy. They would seek my death. I do not wish to spoil the relationship that I have with you for a relationship that could destroy everything we presently enjoy together.”

Atem nodded. Senet's words were true, and Atem could only agree. But he was still determined.

“Then I see no reason why we cannot express ourselves freely in the shade and protection of night. This time is ours, and no one is around to judge us for it.” he wrapped his own hand around Senet's, and smiled when the other did not remove the touch.

“What do you ask, Atem?”

“I ask you to trust me.” A mischievous smirk. When he received one from Senet in kind, he yanked the boy's hand and they both fell into the courtyard pool.

When Senet came up for air, Atem's body was wrapped neatly around his, and they began to kiss as they had once before... when they were younger, and no one had yet explained the ways of their lives to them.


	2. Sink or Swim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another excerpt from this old story.  
> Twist: it wasn't just an Ancient Egypt AU.

**Egypt, 1976**

* * *

  
Two young boys played in the surf of the Red Sea. One sat slightly taller than the other and with a rigidity to his pose that suggested he did not quite share the effervescent qualities of his counterpart, who was slouched and splashing about. Both were grinning though, happy for relief from the hot sun and the long day spent with their guardians in the desert searching for something they were too young to quite understand the importance of.  
  
Only a jaunt away from the boys sat a young man and an elder, arguing over beer an issue the boys had heard too many times already in their short lives. The discussion was always the same, the taller boy's father thought they should look more intently to the sea. New advancements in diving technology proved promising for treasure hunters, and Gomes had many ties to the community he was sure he could tap in order to get the tools they would need for an ocean dig. Surogoku, the playful boy's grandfather, was not convinced that an ocean search was called for. He continually reminded Gomes that their guiding text pointed to a grave on the mainland.  
  
“We've exhausted every location referenced in the scrolls- the only possibility you refuse to consider is that the poem is meaningful. I'm telling you it points to a location in the sea, and new equipment exists to aid a search in the depths. Why will you not follow this idea as you've blindly followed every other whim and fancy you've had in the desert? Which I will remind you again- has turned up nothing in the ten years you've been digging!”  
  
Surogoku frowned, once again frustrated by his younger colleague's recklessness. “There are many reasons I do not indulge this delusion of yours, and you know it is with great patience that I listen whenever you express these... ideas. You are an intelligent and uncommonly gifted young archaeologist; I would encourage you to keep these ideas to yourself. No other member of the team will tolerate these notions of yours. It would be a shame for you to throw away a career on this obsession. You do not have the experience necessary to make logical conclusions about the scrolls or the poem. You have created a story. Stories do not discover tombs.”  
  
The other man stood, not bothering to quiet the scrape of his chair on the pavement. “I joined this team- _your_ team- because it has a knack for finding sites that have eluded the archaeological community for decades. I presumed this team had interest in pursuing possibility, and I was told that the esteemed Doctor Surogoku was a man who took chances. I have been repeatedly disappointed for two years now.”  
  
Surogoku stood as well. “I am sorry to disappoint you Dr. Gomes, but you were likely told tales of my youth. Men mature. I am not the hot-headed gambler I once was, and I've become a much more successful archaeologist since. You could do to learn a bit of humility yourself, and to rethink your priorities. Even if this ideal mission of yours _were_ backed by science, it would be an incredibly dangerous endeavor. You have more than your own life to consider now. Who would care for your son if anything were to go awry?”  
  
“How dare you!” Gomes' expression grew darker. “I care for my son- who are you to say otherwise? And who are you to preach about humility when you and your old colleagues refuse to consider any but the same hypotheses you've held for years? You are all too convinced of the importance of your experience, believing it grants you clairvoyance enough to find the nameless Pharaoh's tomb in a valley that has been searched for years without a new discovery. How much time and resources is the team willing to waste before they consider other ideas?”  
  
“You know little of what you speak, and your temper is precisely why you are not awarded more responsibilities on the team. Accept my ideas and participate in my digs, or do not- it is your choice. But you will quickly find yourself unemployed if you continue to demand that others pay attention to your particular take on history, and no one will be crazed enough to follow you on your suicidal journey to the bottom of the sea. This is the last time this discussion will take place.”  
  
Gomes obviously struggled with this ultimatum. His face betrayed his outrage and it was clear that he had every desire to continue to defy Surogoku. However, his employment contract and ties to the local archaeological community being threatened, he seemed capable of holding his tongue. He surreptitiously looked to where his son was playing, still affronted by Surogoku's insinuation that he was an irresponsible father.  
  
The boys on the beach continued to play, ignorant of the conversation storming between their guardians. They had long ago learned to ignore the adults after they were released to play, and were trying to catch fish in the shallows.  
  
Gomes' son, Yamin, clapped his hands around a brightly colored fish and ushered Yuugi over. “My dad says that there are wonders in the sea, things we can't even imagine that _he_ wants to find. He said I can go with him soon.” he let the fish go, happy to see it swim free and join the others scurrying away from the wake created by the adventurous kids.  
  
Yuugi laughed as the fish swam around him. “When you go, take me with! I want to wear one of those suits your dad has. He looks funny- like a space man!” the boy giggled, remembering the sight. “I bet you'd look even funnier!” he positively shrieked with laughter at the look that came over his friend's face after this comment.  
  
“No I wouldn't...” Yamin frowned, his cheeks burning with color.  
  
Yuugi noticed his friend's embarrassment and smiled more seriously. “Hey Yamin, it's cool. I'd look silly too.”  
  
The boys grinned at one another, and looked out over the horizon together. The setting sun's image reflected on the water, tinting it umber. The boys clamored out of the water and sat together on the sandbank to watch it.  
  
“Yamin, can I tell you something?” Yuugi had shifted to look his friend in the eye. His bouncy energy from earlier had left, replaced by a serene calmness that suggested absolute sincerity. Yamin nodded, curiosity painting his features.  
  
“Well, I don't think my grandpa likes your dad very much. But I want you to know, I really like you.” he smiled, and a small blush crept over his cheeks. “I'll always like you. I hope we can be friends, even though our parents always fight.”  
  
Yamin looked away from Yuugi, embarrassed by the continued heat in his face and shy to admit something so openly. Quietly, and without direct eye contact, he replied “We have always been friends, Yuugi.”  
  
The playful boy smiled and nudged Yamin with his elbow. “Let's stay friends, okay?”


	3. Two Shakes In a Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With two teaser backstories established previously, this chapter introduces the story's present timeline and plot.
> 
> In their storm of the old man's home, the intruders had not bothered to switch off the old television set. The paused video screen still shone through the dark, poor video quality turning from grainy to clear again at random intervals as pixel lines shot through the picture. The photograph was still suspended on screen, a happy photograph of a father and son. The boy in the photograph was no more than seventeen, and a proud grin was spread wide on his tanned face. His red hair was not as ragged as his father's, but it was still cropped short, no doubt to avoid collecting too much heat in the heavy Egyptian summers. His father's arms were draped around his shoulders, and their hands met in the center of the photograph, holding a golden artifact up for the camera.

**Japan, 1996**   
  


* * *

  
Sugoroku Mutou was not an ordinary man.  
  
For ordinary men could not read ancient runes, translate them into ancient Egyptian, and then translate them again into modern English. But Sugoroku could, and Sugoroku had been working on this particular translation for the last few hours with a diligence to rival even the most prestigious of scholars.   
  
Sugoroku played the game of discovery not for profit, but for adventure. The thrill of deciphering a cryptic code was unmatched by any of society's other (petty) games, as far as he was concerned. The task was even more exciting when you knew you were going to be the first to crack it, and Sugoroku knew very well that he was going to be the first to solve this puzzle.   
  
Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, the old man paused to take a drink of water. Decoding ancient runes was not an easy task, and eager as he was to unlock this secret, breaks were inevitably needed. He looked around to his kitchen clock, and saw that it was nearing Midnight. He'd been at this all day. Something nagging the back of his mind told him he should sleep- he had obligations tomorrow… plans. But for the life of him, he couldn't recall what they were at the moment. And if that were the case, he figured whatever they were- they could wait. He hadn't come this close to solving the puzzle in a long, long time.   
  
Another hour passed but Sugoroku did not take any more breaks. So far he'd translated the passages from pieces one through seven, and he was sure he could decipher the passage from the eighth in another hour. Maybe reading it aloud would help.   
  
"The sun lies where the moon sleeps… the passage turns where the current weeps…" so far he'd taken these lines to mean that a canal would lead to some kind of water passage… If 'the sun' referred to the interior of the Pharaoh's tomb, and 'the moon' was a reference to the fact that daylight could not breach the enclosure… Did this mean the tomb would lie underwater? After all, earlier passages had referenced 'the deep'.  
  
Sugoroku pulled out his old map. The edges were yellowed and torn, and hundreds of markings and labels littered the surface. Sugoroku was probably the only man alive who could read a single point of reference on the page, especially if one noted the fact that this map happened to depict Egypt's land as it had existed thousands of years ago. The old man traced a finger along the centerfold, dragging his index from a point labeled 'First Discovery', all the way to the coast where another point was labeled. A little red star was etched onto the page next to the latter, and this seemed to be significant to Sugoroku, because he immediately started scribbling in his journal.  
  
Another few minutes passed before Sugoroku's furious scrawl stopped, but when it did he seemed to have come to a revelation. "The passage turns where the current weeps…. The sea splits here at Ros Mohammad. The passage could be in either gulf." Sugoroku sighed. If it really could be either gulf, he had no distinguishing clues to rule one of them out. "Unless…"  
  
It really didn't make sense to place the tomb in the Gulf of Aqaba. After all, that was awfully close to Saudi Arabia. A Pharaoh, even one in exile, would surely be buried closer to the heart of his land. The Gulf of Suez seemed to make more sense… but he still didn't have any clues alluding to a specific location along the canal. He turned back to his notes on the runes, reading through each passage again, and stopped on the last of the eighth. "Re's hands, mighty and strong, guide the tide through land’s defenses..." It read like a prayer, as if the original author of the passage was asking the Gods for protection. It made much more sense to him now. Perhaps a series of islands surrounded the tomb with a buffer… The Gulf of Suez had quite a few, especially southwest of Ros Mohammad. But if the tomb were hidden there, surely someone would have discovered it by now…  
  
Sugoroku was filled with a sudden thrill. He hobbled from his chair at the kitchen table to the other side of the room where a tall bookcase stood filled with various books on Egypt, Archaeology, language and puzzles. He reached for the bottom shelf, where a series of VHS tapes were hidden behind a tattered chess set. Sugoroku pulled the topmost cassette from the pile and made his way back to the kitchen table, where he hastily shoved the videotape into an ancient television set.    
  
After a few seconds of fumbling with the remote, a grainy picture started to stabilize on the set, and a woman dressed in a grey tweed suit appeared on screen. She seemed to be speaking in a clipped tone as blue bands of text scrolled on the bottom of the screen. A small emblem in the corner of the picture made it apparent that this was an old news report. Judging by the shoulder pads, definitely from the eighties. _"-Mr. Gomes was last seen by his son yesterday afternoon, just before he was dropped off at a friend's house for dinner. The son refused to comment, but family friend, Mahaad Hariteb, made it clear that Mr. Gomes had planned on returning that night for his son. For those of you just tuning in, Mr. Gomes, a well-known wreck diver, was pronounced missing this morning when his yacht was found deserted in Dahab's marina-"_ the reporter's spiel was cut off by a string of moving color as Sugoroku pressed 'fast forward' on his remote. The distorted picture spun around and around until he pressed 'play', and the grey woman seemed to be finishing her speech as the screen switched over to a narrated video.  
  
_"This video was recorded last night by Mr. Gomes himself, just hours before his reported disappearance-"_ the video was blurry, but a young man, perhaps in his late thirties, was moving around what appeared to be the interior of a ship's cabin quarters. He had a rugged appearance with a deep tan, and his red hair was cropped rather haphazardly, as if he'd done it himself without sparing the effort to look in a mirror. Whatever he was saying was made inaudible by the woman's narration. _"-Mr. Gomes claims to have found the lost tomb of an unnamed Egyptian Pharaoh. Authorities are unsure at this time whether this claim should be investigated, as they have not determined the stability of Mr. Gomes state of mind, and are unlikely to do so until he is found-"_  
  
Sugoroku seemed to pay little attention to the reporter's drawl. His focus was on the man's face, and then the background of the video as Mr. Gomes carried the camera outside of his cabin. The view shifted over his shoulder, and panned around in a short circle. Sugoroku paused the video as it came to a distinct rock formation curving upwards towards the sky. The video was recorded at night, and the rock looked eerie looming against the full moon. Sugoroku made a note in his journal and then resumed the video.  
  
Mr. Gomes returned to the screen looking positively giddy. He was no doubt rambling on about his discovery, but his words were still drowned by the news report. _"Mr. Gomes cut the recording shortly after that, intending to take a short dive down to his supposed discovery. The location of this discovery is unclear, as the surroundings seen in his video do not correspond to the surroundings of where his ship was found-"_ The grey lady returned to the screen as she prepared to wrap up the story. _"A search party has been dispatched, but authorities have no leads on Mr. Gomes' whereabouts. Our studio has prepared a tip hotline-"_ the screen cut yet again, this time to a series of toll-free phone numbers. After a moment, a photograph replaced the numbers. _"If you have any information regarding this unfortunate event, please call."_  
  
Sugoroku paused the video there, and returned to his messy table of notes. He took his old map and spread it over his other reference sheets, then dropped his journal on top of the map. The resounding thud caused a flurry of papers to fly around the table, one of which was caught by the old man as he brought it up to his face. It was a drawing, one he recalled sketching on a short dig he'd taken a few years back. In the background was a very distinct rock formation…  
  
That dig… where had it taken place? Yuugi had gone with him that time… he remembered because that was the dig on which Yuugi had broken his leg, and his mother had nearly refused to let his Grandson accompany Sugoroku on any more of his 'treasure hunts' after that. The nearest hospital was…  
  
Another series of papers tumbled off the table as Sugoroku rummaged through his desk again. When he didn't find what he was looking for there, he made his way back to the bookcase and pulled out a large, leather-bound notebook. He raced through the book, page by page, until he seemed to find what he was looking for. The notebook was some kind of dig-journal, from his days working as a field Archeologist. The page he was currently holding bore notes from a dig taken in 1982, in addition to a map of the location of the dig. As Sugoroku skimmed the page, his eyes grew with a realization. This was it! This was the site! But the tomb wasn't on land… it was in the middle of the Suez Canal, and he had rough coordinates!   
  
But after his momentary celebration, Sugoroku couldn't help but somber at the thought of the video paused in the background.   
  
Gomes hadn’t been a crackpot after all. All those years of field rivalry, and the careless fool had still managed to beat the steady wise man to the prize. If he were an ordinary man, Sugoroku would have been furious. Instead, he just smiled… it was a sad smile, for the fact that Gomes' body had never been recovered. And then the old man's humored smile turned solemn. All these years, Sugoroku had assumed Gomes had gone diving after some shadow and perhaps forgotten an extra tank of air. His peer was often zealous, but Sugoroku remembered with shame, that even Gomes wasn't fool enough to dive an ancient tomb without precaution. And the reporter was right- Gomes' ship hadn't been found anywhere near the formation. Suddenly the boy's disappearance on the night of his 'grand discovery' seemed much less of a coincidence, or mere diving accident.  
  
The clock chimed one, and Sugoroku was brought from his revere with a start. He had to tell Yuugi! His Grandson was arriving tomorrow- or today he supposed, but Sugoroku couldn't wait that long! They'd been working towards this moment for so long, and Yuugi had to know! Sugoroku clamored to his wall phone, and chuckled at the anti-climactic quality of the moment. Years and years spent looking forward to savoring this moment, and it was just like any other day. He waited impatiently for his grandson to pick up the other end.   
  
And waited… and waited…  
  
It wasn't like Yuugi to ignore his phone, even at such an awful hour in the morning. But perhaps he was asleep… after all; he _had_ taken quite a long plane ride from the states. Suddenly a voice spoke on the other end, but it did not come from his Grandson Yuugi.   
  
"We were beginning to think you weren't going to call, old man…" the voice rasped. "We missed your little Grandson, but that's okay… our orders are for you." Sugoroku clenched the phone in anger. He didn't know how these people knew of his or his Grandson's whereabouts, but their timing was all too perfect. He cursed and hung up the phone, scribbling a note on the pad hanging next to it on the wall. He had started to gather his journal and notes when a bang sounded from the adjacent room. The intruders were in his shop. He headed for the back door, but he was met halfway by another bang of forced entry. Shaded men in tall black suits crowded into his home from every entry, and he slowly backed into his desk chair, trapped.   
  
The apparent leader of the gang moved forward to hook arm under Sugoroku's, and the old man sighed with resigned amusement. "This is no way to treat your elders, boy." The man in black didn't comment, instead motioning for his peers to confiscate Sugoroku's notes. The men shuffled through the desk, clearing it of anything even remotely important looking, which apparently included Sugoroku's hidden stash of 'Busty Bodacious Beauties', and when the men were finished they filed out of Sugoroku's home as quietly as they'd come in. Content with their work, the leader pushed Sugoroku out the door, and the home was left quiet and cold.   
  
In their storm of the old man's home, the intruders had not bothered to switch off the old television set. The paused video screen still shone through the dark, poor video quality turning from grainy to clear again at random intervals as pixel lines shot through the picture. The photograph was still suspended on screen, a happy photograph of a father and son. The boy in the photograph was no more than seventeen, and a proud grin was spread wide on his tanned face. His red hair was not as ragged as his father's, but it was still cropped short, no doubt to avoid collecting too much heat in the heavy Egyptian summers. His father's arms were draped around his shoulders, and their hands met in the center of the photograph, holding a golden artifact up for the camera. The caption below the photo read: _Amun Gomes- last seen September 30th, 1983._


End file.
